<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Tangled by Fyre</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167062">Tangled</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre'>Fyre</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Little Tied Up [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman &amp; Terry Pratchett</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Communication, Established Relationship, Explicit Consent, Intimacy, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Snake Instincts, Trust</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:56:13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,568</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27167062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fyre/pseuds/Fyre</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Is there any aspect of snake… mating that you find appealing?”<br/>“Fffffffffu–” Crowley took a slug from the bottle. No fair, turning the surprise-tables on him like that. What the hell kind of question was that to come from an angel? Satan’s soggy sack, a demon could do with a warning.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Little Tied Up [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1993465</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>252</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Tangled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/chamyl/gifts">chamyl</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy Bird Day! I happily lay blame at the feet of you and the horny wackos who threw this idea around in horny chat</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Truth or dare.”</p><p>Aziraphale giggled, which was a sign of how truly into his cups he was. “Truth.”</p><p>“Ngh!” Crowley grumbled. “You’re no fun, angel. You’re always picking truth!”</p><p>The angel sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “Because it’s in my nature.”</p><p>“Scared I’ll make you do something you wouldn’t be able to manage?” Crowley challenged, wiggling a half-full bottle of whisky at him.</p><p>They were sitting in the back of the shop, had been for… er… two days? Three? Had been to the wedding. The witch and the whelp. Come back and toasted. And got toasted. And plastered and wasted and wrecked and all kinds of drink-related things.</p><p>Aziraphale rolled his eyes dramatically, listing to one side of his chair. “Oh very well, if it’ll stop you huffing and puffing. Dare me.”</p><p>Crowley grinned wolfishly as the angel stepped into his trap. “I want us to try shirab… wait… no… shi… shi-bar-e. Shibari! I want us to try shi… thingie I just said.”</p><p>To his surprise, Aziraphale didn’t look the least bit annoyed or confused. “Oooh! That would be <em>lovely</em>.”</p><p>“Er… it would?”</p><p>“Mm!” The angel’s watercolour eyes were alight. “It’s so… personal and there’s all the care and trust and–” He gave a happy quiver. “Oh, you do have some lovely ideas, Crowley! Though we may need to take some time to prepare.”</p><p>Crowley, who quite frankly, had been expecting to use a powerpoint presentation – which he definitely absolutely one-hundred-percent had <em>not</em> prepared in advance – and to explain everything was thrown for a loop. Not even just a loop. Whole sodding rollercoaster. “You <em>know</em> what sh– it is?”</p><p>“Well, it’s certainly not a new type of sushi!” The angel glowed like a sunrise. “My turn! Truth or dare? And since I finally did a dare–”</p><p>“Okay,” Crowley groused, wind out of his sails. No fun at all, being surprised by not surprising him like that. “Fine. Truth.”</p><p>Aziraphale contemplated him seriously. Almost soberly if not for the gently swaying. “You’re a snake,” he said abruptly.</p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p>Pinkness was blooming in the angel’s cheek and Crowley’s mood brightened. Oh, it was going to be one of those kind of questions, was it?</p><p>“When we– when our–”</p><p>“Out with it, angel,” Crowley said, grinning.</p><p>“Is there any aspect of snake… mating that you find appealing?”</p><p>“Fffffffffu–” Crowley took a slug from the bottle. No fair, turning the surprise-tables on him like that. What the hell kind of question was that to come from an angel? Satan’s soggy sack, a demon could do with a warning.</p><p>Aziraphale, rose pink, didn’t look the least abashed. “Well?” he prompted, as if he’d asked how the weather was.</p><p>“I don’t exactly shag like a snake, do I?” Crowley squawked.</p><p>“And I didn’t ask you to,” Aziraphale retorted prissily. “Only if there were any aspects you found appealing.”</p><p>Crowley stared at him. The angel wiggled. So Crowley stared some more. “You’re serious?”</p><p>“I’m curious!”</p><p>Hell’s bells, Crowley’s face felt hotter than hellfire. “Erk,” he said.</p><p>“That’s not a no,” the bastard angel said smugly.</p><p>“Fine! Okay! Yes!” Crowley wailed. “I like the thought of the wriggliness.”</p><p>“Wriggliness?” Aziraphale raised his eyebrows.</p><p>“You know! All tangled up and surrounding each other and coiling together.”</p><p>“Ahhhh.” The angel smiled warmly. “So that’s why I always end up with limbs all over the place. I’m glad we can have at least a sample of tangling up.”</p><p>Crowley couldn’t help the small smile that tripped across his lips. “Ah, shaddup, angel.”</p><p> </p><p>_____________________________________</p><p> </p><p>Aziraphale was unfortunately inclined to indirectness.</p><p>He knew it and knew why it was so, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating. It was also why any risqué suggestions he might want to bring up only occurred when he had a drink or two in him for liquid courage. Or for loosening his lip. Perhaps a little of both.</p><p>Sometimes, he kept them for days at a time, sometimes weeks.</p><p>On this particular occasion, he had spent several months preparing. Crowley had made a suggestion and while Aziraphale never professed to be overly imaginative, it had given him some ideas, particular given Crowley’s later confession.</p><p>Still, he hadn’t wanted to rush things and from what he had read and seen of the art of shibari, it required a certain finesse and practical skill. He didn’t tell Crowley that he had found a private tutor, nor bring it up at all – indirectness at play again, alas – but he had learned a great deal and was very excited to show Crowley what he could do.</p><p>Which led to the very moment he was grappling with now.</p><p>His teacher – a charming friend of Marjorie’s – had made him absolutely aware of the importance of communication. This wasn’t something to approach harum-scarum. He had to talk to his partner, make sure they were both ready to proceed, and then – if both were amenable – continue.</p><p>He rubbed his hands anxiously on his trousers, glancing longingly towards the decanter on the table.</p><p>That was another no-no. No drinking while binding or being bound. Technically, he could’ve had a little tipple and sobered himself up right away, but this was important. This <em>felt</em> important enough to do the right way.</p><p>The bell over the shop door jangled.</p><p>“Lunch!” Crowley called.</p><p>“Through here, darling,” Aziraphale said, rising at once and straightening his waistcoat. He fiddled with his ring and smiled – possibly a little too brightly. “What gastronomical delights have you brought for me today?”</p><p>“New Brazilian place over by mine,” he said. “Getting good reviews, so I raided them.”</p><p>It was a merciful diversion until the moment Crowley suggested pairing a bottle with it and Aziraphale very nearly choked on a spicy piece of beef.</p><p>“No! Not– I’d– there’s–” The angel set down his fork and picked up the napkin, dabbing at his mouth. “There’s something I… I would like to discuss with you and I’ve been advised it’s important to do it sober.”</p><p>Crowley stared at him, then slowly tilted back on the couch. “Right,” he said doubtfully. “Something important?” He jerked a thumb ceilingwards. “Them?”</p><p>“Oh no!” Aziraphale laughed, relief breaking over him. “Oh, thank goodness, no. It’s…” He patted at his thigh, the words catching in his throat.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” Crowley asked at once.</p><p>Aziraphale held up at hands. “It’s not wrong,” he said firmly, both for Crowley’s assurance and his own. “It’s…” He took a steadying breath. “I would… I would very much like to…” His hands clenched and shook.</p><p>“Do unspeakably naughty things to me?” Crowley suggested gently with a crook of a smile. “One might say ineffably naughty?”</p><p>Aziraphale laughed weakly. “Yes. Well... specific things.”</p><p>“Anything you want, angel.”</p><p>The gentleness was the thing to unstopper his lips.</p><p>“Shibari,” Aziraphale breathed the word through his constricted throat. “May I?”</p><p>Crowley’s mouth slanted into a smile. “I thought you’d forgotten about that.”</p><p>Aziraphale breathed more easily, now the words were in the open. “No,” he said, picking up his fork again, a knot in his middle loosening. “I… well… I did some reading and went for some lessons.” He watched with delight as Crowley’s jaw dropped. “I wanted to be able to do it right.”</p><p>Crowley swayed forward like a cobra. “Yeah?”</p><p>Aziraphale skewered some more meat and vegetables. “My teacher was very strict about making sure we’re both on the same page,” he said, aware of the heat scorching his ears. “Ensuring neither of us get carried away.”</p><p>“Yeah. Course. That’d be bad.” His tongue darted out. Forked, Aziraphale noticed. How very fitting.</p><p>“She mentioned… um… safe words.”</p><p>“Apple.” Crowley didn’t even hesitate.</p><p>Aziraphale couldn’t help the twitch of his lips. “You came up with that rather quickly.”</p><p>“Just in case,” Crowley retorted. “So yeah. Safe words. And?”</p><p>“Boundaries,” Aziraphale said. “For example, how much I– how restricted you– what would make you most comfortable.” He chewed on the forkful of food, then swallowed, and continued. “For example, some people aren’t comfortable being fully restrained.” He cleared his throat. “I learned I’m not impartial to restraint.”</p><p>Crowley’s teeth gleamed white. “Noted. ‘Nother day.” He shrugged his skinny shoulders. “Don’t know what would be comfortable. Never tried it before. Only ever got tied up by your mates upstairs and they weren’t exactly big on consent and safe words.”</p><p>“Oh.” Aziraphale’s heart sank. “I wouldn’t want to remind you of that.”</p><p>“Pfft!” Crowley waved a hand. “Comparing that to what we’re talking about is like comparing Caligula to Adam. Totally different thing.” He swayed from side to side eye. “Anyway, I can let you know if I’m not enjoying it and I know you’d stop. You’re good that way. Get me off but with goodness.” The mischief returned to his expression. “Bastard in every other way, but not that.”</p><p>Aziraphale laughed, the warmth of happy relief spreading through his chest. “Well, if you let me know when you’re in the mood for it, I have the room upstairs prepared.”</p><p>“Now?”</p><p>The angel blinked. “Really?”</p><p>Crowley shrugged. “Why not? I mean, yeah, finish your dinner first, but you’ve got me curious now. Y’know I can’t be left unsupervised in that kind of mood.”</p><p>There was no hurry to it, as the conversation drifted to other topics while they ate. Or more accurately, while Aziraphale ate and Crowley indulged in a single cup of fragrant black coffee. However, the moment Aziraphale laid his fork down and dabbed at his lips with a napkin, it felt like a static charge in the air.</p><p>Aziraphale rose, offering a hand down to Crowley. “Shall we, my darling?”</p><p>With their fingers tangled together, they made their way up to Aziraphale’s little used bedroom. Admittedly, they had begun to use it more frequently, though seldom for the intended purpose of sleeping.</p><p>“Where’s the bed gone?” Crowley inquired as he crossed the threshold. Indeed, the bedframe had been discreetly moved, leaving a broad tartan blanket spread on the floor.</p><p>“This is better done on a firm, flat surface,” Aziraphale replied with a small, hopeful smile. He bent to remove one shoe, then the other. “I suppose you can excuse the tartan this once?”</p><p>Crowley made a face, lifting a hand to remove his glasses. “How d’you want me? Clothes and whatnot?”</p><p>“That’s entirely your preference.”</p><p>A snap of his fingers and Crowley stood naked, eyebrows raised.</p><p>“On your flesh be it,” Aziraphale said softly, drinking him in, so bare and freckled and lovely. He reached out to guide Crowley onto the blanket, fingertips grazing his spine. “I do have one more little aspect I’d like to check before we begin.”</p><p>Crowley spread his hands and bowed playfully. “You have the advantage of me, sir.”</p><p>Aziraphale fought his own smile and crossed the room to the dresser, rolling his sleeves up as he went. He had a rather beautiful coil of rope, pale and creamy, threaded with blue, and soft as silk to the touch. With a small breath and a sigh, he infused it as he’d planned, then returned to Crowley on the blanket.</p><p>“Here,” he said, offering the tapered end. “Touch it.”</p><p>Crowley glanced down, eyes considerably darker than usual, then closed his hand around the rope. He caught a sharp breath between his teeth, running the cord between his fingers. “It… how?”</p><p>“Just a little infusion of myself,” Aziraphale replied with a small, mischievous smile. “You know. For when it… wriggles around you.”</p><p>Abruptly, he had a very naked demon plastered against him, kissing him ferociously. “You.” Crowley growled against his lips, “Bloody. Genius.”</p><p>Aziraphale – aha – snaked an arm around his waist, indulging his kisses with a smile. “I hoped you would like it,” he confided, “though if it gets a little much, you know–”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, safe word,” Crowley agreed at once, curling his fingers across Aziraphale’s nape. He nudged the tips of their noses together. “Cunning bastard.”</p><p>Aziraphale beamed, slipping his hand featherlight to Crowley’s hip, guiding him everso gently back to the middle of the blanket. “Shall we?”</p><p>“Yes.” Crowley was positively vibrating on the spot.</p><p>“Arms out, darling,” Aziraphale murmured. “Shoulder height.”</p><p>Crowley obeyed beautifully and Aziraphale stepped in close, paying out a generous length of the rope in a soft dip between his hands. It would, of course, be as long as it needed to be, regardless of how much he used.</p><p>He kept his eyes on Crowley’s face as the rope brushed softly across his back. Barely a touch at all but enough to make Crowley’s throat bob and a small, stifled sound catch on his lips.</p><p>“I’m going to harness you, dearest,” Aziraphale murmured, gently dragging the rope back and forth across his ribs. “Chest and shoulders. All right?”</p><p>Crowley nodded, teeth sinking into his lip as Aziraphale drew the cords beneath his arms and around in front of his ribs, the trailing ends of the rope slithering across his hips. He shivered and again when the ropes criss-crossed, twining around one another on his skin, threading slowly, up and over his shoulders.</p><p>“Ngh,” he moaned.</p><p>“Already?” Aziraphale asked softly, delighted.</p><p>Serpent eyes squinted half-heartedly at him.</p><p>“And look how well-behaved you’re being, you lovely thing,” he murmured mischievously, earning a small growl. In response, he pulled the loops and coils just a <em>little</em> tighter.</p><p>Crowley’s head rocked back as the ropes pressed into his skin. “Ngh!”</p><p>“Sh, sh, sh,” Aziraphale soothed, sliding his hand beneath the harness to take hold of the rops, which only made them pull tighter. He sent another skittering pulse of himself through the ropes and, in Crowley’s moment of dazed pleasure, gently kicked Crowley’s legs out from under him.</p><p>Crowley would’ve gone down like a rock, but instead he drooped, gently caught in Aziraphale’s hand, wrapped in the sensation of him. His hands twitched on the floor on either side of him, his ribs rising and falling against the back of Aziraphale’s hand.</p><p>“My lovely darling,” Aziraphale whispered.</p><p>“Angel,” Crowley breathed.</p><p>Gently, gently, Aziraphale lowered him to the blanket, splayed and smiling, and knelt down beside him.</p><p>“May I tie your hands?” he murmured, remembering that dreadful day in the park, the panic and fear that they may be wrong, that they may never see one another again.</p><p>Crowley nodded, gazing up at him and slowly shifting from side to side. Changing the pressure of the ropes. Like wriggling serpents.</p><p>Aziraphale leaned over him, tracing his fingertips lightly down Crowley’s left arm, curling the very tips of his fingers to lift Crowley’s hand to his chest. The right followed, both arms deliciously limp.</p><p>The to and fro of the cream cords slipping over and under his wrists was quite mesmerising, the flush of freckled skin, the faint twitches of his fingers. The angel wove and twisted gentle loops, twinning around them then threading into the coils of the harness, another layer of sensation. He turned his eyes to Crowley’s wondering face as he drew the bonds tight, loops sliding snugger.</p><p>“Fuck,” Crowley moaned, his heels digging at the blanket.</p><p>“Too much?” Aziraphale asked, laying a gentle hand on his quivering belly.</p><p>“Ngh.” Crowley shook his head frantically, fingers clawing spasmodically at his arms. “Y’feel… all round…”</p><p>He jerked his chin downwards and Aziraphale chuckled.</p><p>“Is that a subtle hint?” he said playfully, though he did reach down and give Crowley’s rising erection a gentle stroke. Crowley thudded at the floor with his heel, arching his back. “Sh, sh, sh.” He returned his hand to Crowley’s belly. “Deep breaths, darling. Deep breaths.”</p><p>Crowley pressed his head back to the floor, breathing in as deeply as the harness would allow. Aziraphale continued to gently stroke his belly with one hand, then when Crowley sagged, shivering pleasantly, eyes closed, he retrieved the rope.</p><p>He had been very thorough in his reading after all.</p><p>Taking a loose length of the rope between his hands, he drew it sensuously beneath Crowley’s chin. Crowley’s eyes flew open, the sound he made utterly inhuman.</p><p>“I know, darling,” Aziraphale breathed raptly, dragging the trailing coil in loops around the length of Crowley’s throat. “It’s a lot, isn’t it? You can feel me all over you.”</p><p>“Y’know…” Crowley gasped out.</p><p>“I know.” Aziraphale agreed quietly, curling the loop of rope beneath his chin again, stroking back and forth, back and forth, lewd and teasing and flirtatious in a language beyond humanity.</p><p>“Please,” Crowley gasped, squirming against the blanket. “Please, angel.”</p><p>Aziraphale obeyed, smiling, his ropes dividing in his hands, as he trailed them – slithering – over the harness and Crowley’s twitching hands and concave belly and only just flirting them against the aching hardness jutting up from his groin.</p><p>The demon keened, pounding one foot on the floor until Aziraphale caught his ankle. Gentle and firm, drawing his legs down, flat, together.</p><p>“Bastard!” Crowley wailed, then shuddered all over again as the twin coils wove around his legs as neatly as Asclepius’s staff. Overlap in the middle, knots and out, a delicate, intricate array, twining his legs utterly together, turning him once more into the limbless serpent he had been.</p><p>Aziraphale drank him in, the tension of the cords against taut, sleek thighs, the crook of bony knees, the arch of twitching, tense feet. Neck to ankle, he was bound and entirely at Aziraphale’s mercy, rocking and shivering gently in the tangled sensation of the angel around him.</p><p>His hips jerked weakly, seeking release, seeking his mate.</p><p>Aziraphale reached out to stroke him gently. He could have used ropes there too, but this felt too intimate and too precious, such trust and compliance and the utter surrender to his presence. With a miracle, he dispatched his own trousers and underthings, then pressed a hand to Crowley’s hip, holding him down.</p><p>“Darling,” he said softly. “Will you have me?”</p><p>Near-black eyes met his. “Pleasssssse.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s heart thumped and he straddled Crowley’s hips on his knees, lowering himself down. Crowley squirmed urgently under him, rutting blindly. He was scorchingly hot and Aziraphale’s internal parts were already very slick, rubbing against him.</p><p>“Oh…” the angel breathed as Crowley’s hard member ground against him. Almost enough to simply rub and squirm against one another, but a sharp jerk of Crowley’s hips buried him into Aziraphale’s body and the angel sank down on him, surrounding him entirely.</p><p>The demon gave a guttural moan, rubbing up against him as much as the restraints would allow, small ragged breaths escaping him.</p><p>“There you go, darling,” Aziraphale cooed, leaning down over him, rolling his own hips. He braced his hands on either side of Crowley’s head, and send another ripple scouring through the bonds, and somehow, Crowley managed to tumble them, rolling them over and over, linked and locked together, rolling against him as his mouth crashed down on Aziraphale’s.</p><p>The press-rub of the ropes against Aziraphale’s skin shocked him, the scrape of the knots against his inner thighs rough and urgent and utterly delicious.</p><p>He opened his mouth to the greedy forked licks of Crowley tongue, wrapping his thighs around the rope serpent, goading him on, urgent and demanding, fingers twisting and pulling at Crowley’s hair as his own breath was reduced to staggered panted gasps. Crowley didn’t stop. Oh, Lord, he really didn’t. The rutting and urgent rocking thrusts continued, tangling them more and more deeply.</p><p>Crowley nuzzled down off his lips, kissing and biting at his throat, tongue darting. Marking. He marked and it stang.</p><p>“Wicked creature,” Aziraphale happily gasped, digging one heel into the ropes around Crowley’s legs, pinning them in place, reducing his movement to the primitive rutting of his hips, until he shuddered into several stuttering thrusts, coming hot and hard inside Aziraphale’s body.</p><p>Crowley sagged over him, hips still gently twitching, his breathing hot on Aziraphale’s throat. “Gnh?”</p><p>Aziraphale tilted his head to kiss his ear. “I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he whispered.</p><p>“N’you?” Crowley mumbled with a pointed rub of his hips.</p><p>“Later,” Aziraphale demurred, despite the petulant ache of arousal. “This is for you, darling.”</p><p>With effort, he rolled them back over, Crowley limp as overcooked spaghetti as he spilled out on the tartan. Loose-limbed and flushed, he had a dopey little smile on his face. “Y’wriggle good.”</p><p>Aziraphale blushed despite himself. “Of course I do,” he said, fondly swatting the demon on the hip, his other hand cradling Crowley’s head. “Let’s get you undone, hm?”</p><p>“Kay.” Crowley’s voice was slurred and drowsy.</p><p>With a series of gentle tugs, the knots came undone and Crowley gave another small, happy moan as they slithered in loosening loops down his sides and over his spaghetti limbs. His fingers twitched in the coils, a happy, sated smile spread all over his face.</p><p>Aziraphale ran a proprietary hand over his chest, tracking the gentle and almost serpentine patterns etched into his skin. They would have to do this again with thicker ropes and different textures. Crowley murmured in sleepy approval, shifting against his palm.</p><p>He looked so very drowsy and Aziraphale murmured, “If you would like to sleep, you can. I won’t be offended.”</p><p>Crowley’s eyes were already slipping shut. “Ngh.”</p><p>Aziraphale lay down beside him amid the tangle of ropes. Better to be here when he awoke. And better to lie there and watch him doze with that lovely little smile on his face as the marks on his skin gently faded away. Clean-up could come later and together. A warm bath, some dessert, perhaps. All good things.</p><p>He kissed Crowley’s brow softly. “Thank you, darling.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><div class="children module" id="children">
  <b class="heading">Works inspired by this one:</b>
  <ul>
    <li>
        <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27525250">[Podfic] Tangled</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Djapchan/pseuds/Djapchan">Djapchan</a>
    </li>
  </ul>
</div></div></div>
</body>
</html>